Tony All Alone
by Ema Schopenhauer
Summary: Science Bros. - Tony is alone, Pepper's gone and he doesn't know what to do with himself. However, a colleague of his has ideas of what to do with Tony, but is Tony accepting of Bruce's feelings? He's still got Pepper to get over, after all... [Rated T for swears]
1. Pepper

_(Ever since I saw The Avengers and the Iron Mens, I've wanted to do a fan-fiction. But I didn't know who to do. I'm so used to doing Hetalia fan-fictions. Anyway, this is the test-run. It was only meant to be a one-shot, but, so far, I've written more than that. Science Bros. seemed fitting for me, though. I'm kind of a Bruce Banner-type figure. And I know a Tony. It works. Enjoy. - Ema)_

**Chapter 1 - Pepper**

The hole in the ground stared at Tony, as empty as his eyes. He was devoid of emotion, though tears were pressing through, sliding down his cheeks, down onto his rough chin. He wasn't as sorted and sharp as usual; that small beard was unruly, too long, unwashed. His suit was crumpled and his tie was over to the left, not tight enough to look formal. What was the point? Who was he going to impress?

Tony Stark. Iron Man. That hurt to think of, now. All the time that they'd spent together, a waste. It was gone. _She_ was gone. All she was now… Tony pulled himself away, stood sideways to the hole in the ground as a box was brought through the congregation. Everyone else was watching. He wanted to, desperately wanted to, but something was stopping him from looking at it. Looking at _her_. He had a façade to keep up; confident, charming, in control. His appearance suggested otherwise. He couldn't look round. He'd break down. Sure, maybe people would understand, but Tony wasn't the type to show his emotions in public.

When she'd died, he'd had to lock himself in the shower before he'd shown his tears. There was no one there but JARVIS, but JARVIS was just artificial intelligence. The shower seemed safe. Secluded. And, when he turned on the water, his tears mixed with it so no one would be able to tell he was crying, even if they could see him. Hear him screaming with pain and anguish maybe, but they wouldn't be able to see him crying.

It rained. Tony wouldn't have cried if it hadn't rained. But it did. The world was crying. Weeping for a lost lover. Weeping for Virginia Pepper Potts.

A hand touched him delicately on the shoulder and, at first, Tony didn't look round. Didn't want to. There was some fleeting, crazy hope in his head that it was Pepper, that she wasn't… she hadn't… that he was just waking up from a dream. A nightmare.

When Tony did finally turn his head, he saw not Pepper as he was hoping, but Dr. Bruce Banner, fellow scientist and colleague was there, offering his most sympathetic stare. It almost made Tony break but he managed to hold it together.

"You okay?" Banner said quietly, as the coffin was moved closer to the dug grave. "I get it."

"You fucking don't," Tony growled, his voice wobbling.

"I can't empathize, you're right," Banner took his hand back, but held Tony in his gaze, "But I'm here for you."

Tony turned away, watching, biting his lower lip until it bled, with Banner behind him, silently supporting him mentally. The coffin was lowered. Tony stared down at his chest. The sad glow of the Arc Reactor reminded him of Pepper. He'd revolved around that piece of machinery for so long, and she'd revolved with him. He had a bag at his feet and he reached down into it. Pulled out a glass case with another Arc Reactor in it, with the words "Proof That Tony Stark Has A Heart" around it. He clutched it to his chest. Pepper had made it. When he'd told her to destroy his old Arc Reactor, she'd made it into art.

Agent Phil Coulson was overseeing the whole thing. Quite a responsibility, but he was doing alright. He looked up as Tony approached him, and nodded an affirmative at the unspoken question. Tony knelt by the hole in the ground, reached as far down as he could into it, and dropped the glass case. It landed upright on the patterned wood of the coffin, still glowing, and he straightened up.

"She'll appreciate it," Coulson said in a low voice. As Tony stepped back, Coulson signalled for people to start filling in the hole. Tony turned away. He didn't want to see Pepper covered up. He wanted to believe she'd moved to a better world, but he knew where she really was; in a box getting covered with soil. After this, he would go back to that big tower and have to live there alone in his appartment for the rest of his life. Or for as long as it took him to find another lover. A proper lover. Not just a girl he could have a fling with.

The rest of the funeral came and went, Tony shuffling around ignoring everyone's condolences and trying to hold himself together. The rain had stopped but there was no sun. He was the last to leave.

Except for Banner. The scientist watched Tony cross the grass, holding the now empty bag, and return to his car. It didn't move. Tony had organised a meal for after the funeral at a restaurant but Banner knew Tony wouldn't be going. He had fully intended to go himself, and, even though looking after people wasn't his strong point, he could see Tony needed someone. He couldn't go.

When Tony finally left, Bruce emerged from the graveyard. He'd watched Tony through the bars, out of sight – he knew Tony wouldn't want to be close to anyone for quite a while. Even so, he needed to check Tony was all right. He crossed to his own car, staring out at the road, dark hair rustling as the breeze picked up. He wouldn't go to the restaurant either.

Stark Tower was cold when Tony got in. The foyer, usually warm and welcoming, was cool. He pressed the button in the elevator to go to his apartment, not wanting to have to get there and find it empty. He couldn't put it off, though.

The doors opened and Tony took the keys from his pocket. Slotted them into the front door. His mind was numb; he didn't want to think of Pepper anymore. Once he had brought himself to think that she was actually gone, then he would think about her.

He tried to focus on something else, someone else. He frowned. He just noticed. Banner's car had still been there when he had left. Banner stayed? Why would he stay? Tony allowed himself to collapse into a cream-white leather sofa, his back to the windows. Maybe Banner wanted to say goodbye to Pepper himself. Alone.

Something about that thought made Tony angry. He didn't want Banner to be alone with Pepper! Not when she was alive, not now. Banner was Tony's rival. Banner was the quiet one, though; while Tony _made_ Pepper see that he loved her, Banner didn't. But there were signs. The way Banner looked at Pepper when she came in if they were working on a project together, for example. He'd leer at her like he wanted her. Stare at her as she walked. Ran his hand through his hair to straighten it out so she'd be impressed. Tony had cottoned onto Banner's plan, but hadn't said anything to his friend. What if he had? Would Banner have backed off? In the end, it hadn't mattered because Pepper had chosen Tony.

He knew she would.

When he told everyone about it, he'd noticed Banner look away from him, breaking eye contact. Tony had resented him for that but, again, said nothing. Apparently, though, Pepper hadn't noticed Banner's attempts. His mind flashed back to the car, and Tony imagined Banner talking to Pepper's grave, saying all the things he hadn't said because she'd got with Tony, and his sadness was replaced by distrust and anger.

Tony pulled himself up. He needed a drink. Nothing alcoholic, he told himself. Just something flat and ordinary, like coffee. Pepper sometimes made him coffee. He'd have to do it himself from now.

He made it, moving slowly around the kitchen. Took it into his bedroom. His bedroom. Not their bedroom. Sat on the side of his bed. His bed. Not their bed. Allowed himself a sob before raising the mug to his mouth.

The chairs in the foyer were comfortable but usually used by clients. Bruce didn't want to go up to Tony's floor yet. Tony needed space. Bruce ran his hand through his hair. He was nervous. He straightened his tie. He paced the foyer, hands in pockets, looking down at the floor. His mind was elsewhere so he didn't see Steve Rogers come in, his blond hair dull in the minimal light of the world.

"Bruce?" he said and Bruce stopped pacing.

He looked up, looked into those blue eyes, "Steve," he said stupidly. He cleared his throat and tried again, "I just got back."

"You didn't stay for the meal. I didn't see you there."

Damn.

"Well, no… Tony didn't either though."

"He's got a reason. It was his partner's _funeral_. He's kinda got an excuse?"

"I guess…" Bruce shook his head, sorting his hair. "It didn't feel like the right thing to do. I know I probably should have been there."

"So, where were you?"

This guy was persistent. Bruce tilted his head, "Around," he said vaguely. Then, "Do you think we should leave Tony to sort himself out?"

"Probably."

When it was clear Bruce wasn't going to talk again, Steve passed and went to the elevator. He was lost from sight as the doors closed. Bruce heard the elevator start to rise and his brain started working on what to do. He was a practical scientist, not a brain scientist.

Quietly, so as not to disturb the mourning air around the building, he retrieved a sheet of paper and a pen. He sat down to write, forming his letters carefully. Then he folded the paper, and scrawled on it, 'We'll talk'. He took it outside to where Tony had parked his car rather haphazardly and tucked the folded sheet under the windscreen wiper. Unless it rained, Tony would find it.

It was four days until Tony left his apartment. For two of those days, he'd simply stayed in bed, wallowing in his misery and sorrow. He'd stopped thinking about Banner. Didn't want to. On the third day, he wanted to get back to himself, get back to that confident man, that one who'd be the rock, supporter, the one to provide the humour. At this point, though, he'd be the one needing support. On the fourth day, he'd dragged himself down to the foyer having trimmed his beard and styled his hair in the usual way. His eyes were still heavy, though, dragged down by large dark circles. He wasn't sure where he'd go. Maybe he'd go back to her final resting place. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd treat himself to a drink at a bar. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd just drive around New York. Yeah. Seemed best. Maybe drop into a store and buy music, buy a film. Nothing too heavy. Just something to take his mind off everything else. Something to lose himself in.

He arrived in the car park after a few minutes wondering where to go and unlocked his car. Got in. It was then he noticed a bit of paper, tucked under the windscreen wiper. It had been pulled out of its position by the wind slightly, so Tony hurriedly got out and grabbed it before it took off. The folded front had two words: 'We'll talk".

Tony got back in his car and unfolded it, reading slowly and carefully. There was no name at the bottom of the paper, not signature. Tony was getting a headache. Who would want to talk to him now? Especially in his state.

Tony put the paper on the passenger seat and turned on the engine. He glanced at it as he reversed out of his space and took off down the road, but still couldn't figure out whose note it was. Something about the handwriting was familiar though. He put it to the back of his mind. If he figured it out, it'd come to him.

There was nothing much on the shelves. Tony had persuaded himself to go into a DVD and CD store but, as he was leafing through the various titles, he noted that nothing was appealing to him. He sighed and stood up, but then a DVD caught his eye. He stared at it for a while. It was clearly nothing special. Some love thing between a dark-haired man with glasses and this pretty little strawberry-blond tart.

Tony snarled. The dark-haired man reminded him of Banner and the strawberry-blond girl looked slightly like Pepper. He grabbed the DVD box off the shelf and stared at it. Stared at the dark-haired man. Much too tall to be Banner though. And the girl's neck was far too short for it to be Pepper's. He caught himself. What was he doing? The film wasn't about Banner and Pepper. It was about the flimsy characters Bradley and Rachael. He snorted and put it back. He didn't want a film. Even as he was walking out of the store, he realized another reason why the dark-haired figure had caught his eye. He hastily got back to his car, and read the letter again. Yes, there was no mistaking it. That handwriting was Bruce Banner's.


	2. We'll Talk

**Chapter 2 - We'll Talk**

Tony couldn't believe it. The person who wrote the letter, the person who left it for him, the person who wanted to talk to him now was his love rival Bruce Banner! What right did he have to decided when Tony should talk to him? Tony was the one grieving the most. He wanted to be left alone to do his own thing. And if he did want company, the last person he wanted it to be was Banner. Yes, Banner might be able to understand the pain of losing the person he loved, but even Steve Rogers would be better than Banner. Steve wasn't Tony's first choice of friend, and sure they argued a fair bit, but Steve wasn't complicated like Banner.

Tony even reckoned Banner was socially inept. He kept that to himself, though.

Tony had failed to get something to occupy himself with. No film, no CD, not even a good book. He didn't want to do anything now. Certainly didn't want to watch a film. Certainly did not want to talk to Bruce Banner. He drove back to the tower, numb.

Bruce noticed the note was gone from Tony's car later the same day. He also noticed it had moved parking space. Usually, Tony's space was one away from Bruce's, but Tony had taken the trouble to hijack Steve's space, three spaces away from Bruce's. When Steve got back, there'd be trouble, Bruce reckoned. However, Tony must have got the note. Bruce knew that much. He'd not come to see Bruce though, so Bruce reckoned he'd have to go and see the grieving man instead. As he walked up to Tony's door, Bruce hesitated, thinking that this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Still, they had to talk. Bruce ambled around outside Tony's door, wondering what the best approach would be. He'd try to be caring, understanding, a friend. Yes, that would work. Still, he wasn't sure about it when he raised his knuckles to knock on the door.

There was no reply from within. Bruce wondered briefly whether Tony was on someone else's floor.

He knocked again.

Silence.

Bruce tried the handle of the door. It was unlocked, but Bruce didn't go in. That would be rude, barging into Tony's space like that. It would send the wrong impression.

"Tony?" Bruce said.

"… Banner, that you?" Tony _was_ in there. His tone was unwelcoming.

"Yes… you got-"

"Got your letter? Oh, yeah, that was nice of you."

Bruce paused. Tony didn't sound happy with him. He tried again, "Do you want to talk?"

"Not to you," yes, it was clearly anger specifically towards him.

"You'll have to talk," pressed Bruce.

"Not to you."

"Tony…"

"Just _go_, Banner!"

Bruce stepped away from the door, a frown on his face. Stepped up again, "Tony, it's not that you have to talk to me, it's that I _have to_ talk to you!"

"You're talking to me now, say what you want!"

"Face to face, Tony," said Bruce. Inside, he heard Tony moving around, coming closer to the door. At first, Bruce thought that Tony was going to let him in but then he heard the key in the lock, turning. There was a click. Then Tony moved away.

His voice was still strong, "Go away, Banner. I don't want you to talk to me."

Nicey nice wasn't working, clearly. Bruce thought about what the next plan of action would be. He knocked on the door again, harder.

"_Banner, would you just-_"

"_Anthony Edward Stark, you open this door right now!_"

Clearly, Bruce's tone shook Tony because he stopped. No sound came from within though.

Bruce continued, still shouting, "Stark, me and you are talking _now_ and that's all there is to it!"

The key clicked the lock open slowly, and Tony appeared, opening the door.

"No need to get dramatic about it," he muttered as he let Bruce in.

Tony didn't want to talk to Banner. Didn't want anything to do with his love rival. It was clear by the way Banner shot him looks before he sat down that he was screwed. Something big was going to happen. Tony tried to put it off for a long as possible, saying he wanted to make himself a drink. Didn't offer one to Banner, though.

He didn't actually make himself a drink so when he came back to the sofas without a beverage, Banner asked, "Where's your drink?"

"I… it's cooling down…"

Banner saw through the lie and sighed, "Look, Tony, you don't want to talk to me but I need to talk to you."

"Why?" Tony said, making no move to sit down.

"Because…" Banner shifted, uncomfortable. "Look, I know you're upset about Pepper. Anyone in your position would be, believe me."

"Oh, I believe you all right."

Tony's tone was so icy that Banner flinched before looking up at him, "Why do you say that?"

"Oh, come on! You wanted her! Every time it was us three in a room, you would try to impress her!"

To his delight, Banner looked guilty.

"You wanted to look better than me. You wanted to be the one to get her. Well I'll tell you something, I got her. She wanted me. But you never stopped loving her, did you?"

Banner was quiet.

"That was why you stayed at her… her…" Tony swallowed, "her grave… after I left."

"Tony, that's not what-"

"Bullshit, don't lie."

"Sit down, Tony," Banner said calmly. Tony sat and stared hard at his colleague. It was a little while before Banner continued, "That's not why I stayed there. I stayed there to make sure _you_ were okay. And… you thought I wanted her? That's not true."

"Yes it is."

"No, Tony, believe me, it's not."

Tony looked into Banner's eyes. He couldn't see any evidence of a lie.

"Then why did you always fix your hair and stuff when she came in the room?"

Banner chewed this one over carefully, looking embarrassed, but never taking his eyes from Tony. He ran his hand involuntarily through his dark hair, just like he did when Pepper made herself present.

"Tony-"

"If you say my name one more time I'll throw you out that window."

Banner blinked. He cleared his throat and stared again, "Right. Look. It's hard for me to say this, but hear me out."

Tony thought this would be best. He nodded.

"When Pepper… when it was us three, me, you and her, I didn't know I was doing that stuff. I didn't know I was fixing my hair," he said. He pointed at it, "It's never beautiful is it though? But, in all honestly, if I _was_ doing that stuff… it's because I… wanted to impress… I wanted to look better than… than her."

Banner looked away and Tony took a moment to work out what he was saying. When he did understand, his eyebrows raised.

"I wanted to look better than her. I wanted to impress…" said Banner, trailing off in anxiety.

"… me?" finished Tony and Banner nodded slightly. Tony was stunned. He sat back in the sofa, staring blankly at Banner.

"Are you serious?" he asked hoarsely.

Banner didn't look at him. Kept his eyes on his knee which was obviously fascinating him. Neither spoke for a bit.

"Then…" Tony said, finding his voice again, "Then why did you stay at… with Pepper?"

"I was watching you," said Banner, admitting with a shrug. "I wanted to stay with you. But you went. I watched you go."

"Why did you…?" Tony was sick of asking questions. "What do you want?"

Banner squirmed, "You can probably guess," he said. "You're smart."

"I'm… I can't. No. Just… no. Could you…"

"I'll go," Banner said, standing up and scurrying to the door. He let himself out before Tony had even risen to his feet. The door closed and Tony just stared at it. Fifteen minutes ago, he'd had less to think about. He'd just had his grief to live through. Now he had this. It was amazing what simple words could do; the ones Banner had said, what he had admitted, that was powerful. It almost made Tony lightheaded.

He sank back onto the sofa. What was he supposed to do? Run after Banner? Try out what Banner wanted to do? Never speak to him again? To Tony, the latter seemed the best cause of action. At least, at the moment. He went to bed, even though it was still light out. He had to rest. He had to think.

At about quarter to three in the morning, Tony peeled his eyes open. He'd forgotten to put the heating on and his chest was cold under the covers. The cold often woke him. His bed was comfortable, so comfortable it was a wonder Tony didn't just fall right asleep again. The bed was lonely. He had a king-sized bed all to himself. He still wasn't used to it. He snuggled down in his quilt sadly, pulling it right up to his chin to get warm. It was caught on something behind him so he tugged it with a grunt.

Something tugged it back.

Tony froze. His heart was beating fast, pumping against the Arc Reactor. It glowed crazily, and Tony moved his eyes to everywhere the blue light was shining. Nothing was there. Experimentally, Tony tugged the duvet again. Nothing pulled back. Yanked it, harder this time. Nothing.

Tony doubted it was just his imagination. Tony took a breath to calm himself, then threw his body around so he was lying on his other side. At first, he couldn't see anything, but then the glow from the Arc Reactor illuminated a shape that certainly wasn't there when he went to bed. Something sparked in him and he thought, quite irrationally he knew, that it might be Pepper. Perhaps it was Pepper!

_Perhaps_.

Tony reached out, hand shaking, and touched the shape. It was warm.

_Perhaps_.

He moved his hand down what he reckoned was an arm, found a hand and explored it with his fingertips.

_Perhaps_!

Tony moved his hand up to where he thought the face would be and he could feel long breaths breeze over his palm.

_Pepper_!

Warm tears spilled down Tony's cheeks. He felt silky hair when he touched the forehead. He felt soft skin when he touched the cheek. He felt his voice threatening to escape in a strangled scream as he moved the duvet and the blue light from the Arc Reactor illuminated the sleeping shape in front of him. For a second, he saw Pepper, that strawberry blond head resting on the pillow. But then that image faded and the slumbering beauty revealed itself to be Dr. Bruce Banner.

Tony jerked awake instantly, pulling his hands away from his colleague. His first instinct was to shout, to yell and wake the doctor from his sleep but he couldn't. Quietly, still fighting the urge to physically attack Banner, he unthreaded himself from the duvet, patted it down so the sleeping man would be comfortable and left the room to the quiet sound of low breathing.

Tony despaired. What was he to do? He was only wearing pyjama trousers and, as he stared out over the city, he found himself about to cry both with anger and confusion.

It wasn't Pepper there beside him. Banner had taken her space! The bastard! His hands curled themselves into fists and he let loose a strike into the wall with the side of his hand, growling, cursing Banner.

Tony went back into his room, a dark scowl corrugating his forehead and his mouth pulled up in a snarl. How dare he steal Pepper's space! Tony stalked around to Pepper's side of the bed where Bruce slept, his back facing the edge of the bed. Tony grabbed Bruce's shoulder and yanked it over.

"Wakey-wakey _Brucey-boy_!" he screamed as he slammed the other man's shoulder into the corner of the bedside table. Banner's eyes opened at the sudden pain and he gasped, unable to comprehend the situation, Tony above him, fist raised, his upper body supported by his hand which was pressed onto Banner's shoulder. The corner from the table was digging in.

"To-"

"Bruce!" Tony looked like he was going to punch, but the fist was hesitant. Banner brought his hand up fast, pushing Tony away, giving him space to get up. The two men stood facing each other, Tony in pyjama trousers, Banner still in the clothes he'd been wearing earlier, a purple polo neck and beige trousers. Tony was snarling like a wild beast, furious eyes locking onto his colleague.

"Ton-"

"Why?!" Tony roared. "Why were _you_ in _my bed_?!"

There was a silence. When Banner was satisfied Tony wasn't going to charge him, he said, "I… well, I couldn't just leave you, Tony," he spoke carefully, like every word had been measured out and prepared beforehand, like a good meal. "I just meant to… lie down with you for a bit. I would have left."

"How did you get in?!"

"Tony, you didn't lock the door after I left."

Tony's anger drained as he realized his stupidity. He didn't lock the door. He didn't instruct Jarvis to lock it, either. Idiot! He tried to bring it back, tried to intimidate Banner again… but, actually, Banner didn't seem to be too scared. Tony snorted and straightened – Banner was the Hulk. Who'd be scared of a little man with no comparative superpower except being a smartarse if they were the Hulk? Besides, Tony didn't have a suit on. He was completely defenceless if Banner got angry.

The other man stood there, looking tired, but peaceful. Didn't even look guilty.

He coughed awkwardly, "See, I just wanted to know what it would be like… t- to… well, sleep with you."

"Sleep with me?!"

"Just, yes," Banner shrugged, "Sorry."

"Sorry…? Sorry? That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say? I love you? I couldn't help what I did? It's heart over head?"

Tony stared, "'Heart over head'? Who's ever said that before?"

Banner shrugged again. Tony hated how he was being so casual. He was just shrugging. He turned away from his fellow scientist and stared at the wall, stealing occasional glances at Banner, who was just gazing at him across the gap between them.

"Get out."

Banner didn't move. Just as Tony opened his mouth to say it again, the other man started to move, purposefully crossing over to the door. He opened it, then looked back at Tony.

"Good night," then Banner left, closing the door behind him. Tony waited until he heard the door to his apartment close before sighing forcefully and putting his hands over his face. He raised his covered face and his sigh grew into a scream of rage. He took his hands away slowly, breathing in, letting his breath out shakily. He felt a bit better, at least.

"God in Hell…" he murmured, close to tears. "At least he's gone…"

Tony moved back to the bed. Then remembered something.

"Jarvis?"

The artificial intelligence's voice piped up, "Yes, sir? How can I help?"

"Lock the door."


End file.
